


Value of Mercy

by CanadianSummer



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Enemies, Loss of Trust, Misunderstandings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Treachery, mixed intentions, supposedly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2019-11-21 10:12:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18140861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanadianSummer/pseuds/CanadianSummer
Summary: “Well, it really is you,” he stated, some amusement found in his tone, but she knew better than to trust that as a sign that this wasn't going to end badly, “Gotta admit, when I saw your bounty poster, I didn't want to believe it. Can't seem to keep yourself out of trouble, huh, Lou?”“You stoopin' to bounty huntin' now, Morgan?” she returned, her voice somewhat slurred and tired, “Thought you was too mighty for somethin' like this.”“Lot's changed since you ran, hope the money you stole was worth it.”--Louise Winters had been picked up by the Van der Linde Gang at a fairly young age, forging trust and relationships with them until a botched job put her out on her own with a good handful of money. After realizing that she was on her own and the law lingering ever so closer as the weeks bled into months, she started to realize that nobody was coming back. So, money in hand and a building rage, she set out east. However, as the months passed into years, she wakes one day to find herself face to face with a past she thought had been laid to rest.





	1. Wanted Posters

There were three things she knew for certain.

The first was that her leg was damaged something fierce, the inside of her calf burning like a flame licking just under skin. Really wasn't a great way to start off her day, to the say the least, but it was somehow one of her lesser worries in the moment. The second thing that she knew was that the nauseating jostling that she had been slowly becoming aware of had stilled to a stop. It seemed like she was on a horse, could feel the animal moving somewhat under her torso as some muffled voices filtered in and out of the ringing in her ears.

That lead into the final thing, and one that was the most concerning—whoever she had the unfortunate pleasure to be riding with was talking with someone, and she was _damn sure_ she knew that voice.

Her eyes blinked open, the conversation carrying on around her, though the words made little sense. She sucked in a breath, squinting against the daylight as she registered the ground not too far off from where she was laid, a black tail swishing back and forth as the horse shifted. There was a pain that throbbed harshly against her skull as she came aware, the dark haired woman lifting her head slightly as she tried to become more aware of her surroundings, though all she could really take in were the trees not too far off and the dirt of the road. With a small turn of her head, her eyes landed on the side of the man who had hogtied her onto the back of his horse as he reached down to remove a pistol, the loading _click_ registering much clearer than the start of the conversation.

“Ain't my fault you were too slow to get the bounty on this one's head, she ain't goin' anywhere with you.”

_Oh, Christ. What the hell have you got yourself in now, Louise?_

There was a pause between the man's words and the response of the person he was confronting ahead of him, she couldn't twist herself enough to get a good look at him. _Damn bounty hunters can't leave well enough alone._ This was a situation she needed out of, and quickly.

“I weren't askin', partner, don't make no mistake on _that._ ”

Oh, she wasn't mistaken. She _definitely_ knew that voice. However, as soon as the recognition settled into her gaze, green eyes widening as her stomach sank, two gunshots rang out. The first was from the man that sat on the horse she was currently on the back of, and a second that followed a moment after that had the man's body jerking backwards and the horse rearing back somewhat. Louise barely had time to register the blood and the body falling off the saddle before the horse had turned and took a run toward the woods. Things passed in a heavy blur, her head swimming as she tried not to fall off. The rope around her hands and feet made it hard to move, along with the pain that was shooting through her head and up her leg.

When she felt like she was going to pass out again, the horse managed to slow, her head flinching away from some oncoming branches as she twisted against the rope. Exhaustion made it hard to do so, along with the pain that wasn't fading. They hadn't run too far, the spooked horse shifting and bucking lightly. Really, she should try to roll off, but Louise found herself slumping instead as a wave of sick washed over her, blood pounding in her ears as the darkness that blocked out most of her morning threatened to take her over once again.

She didn't see him approach, but she heard him.

The situation was quickly registering, the reality making her want to cast a questioning glance upwards to _whoever_ decided that today was the day that fate wanted to put all of this back on her plate. It had been _years_ , the fear of this exact thing happening had been put to rest a while back and just when she thought she would be fine...

The horse she was on shifted more anxiously as she caught sight of him riding out through the bush, taking steps sideways as Louise kept her head down. She knew she should struggle, and a part of her was screaming that she do so, but she knew with what happened to her leg and trying to get out of the ropes without him noticing was an escape that was impossible in the moment. His voice hadn't changed much over the years, Louise almost wanting to chuckle at the thought as he tried to calm the horse she was on. Her gaze lifted, watching him as he held his hands out toward the horse, a somewhat labored sigh escaping her.

Arthur Morgan had changed a little from what she remembered of him—aged some, from what she could see from the side of his face, but he was recognizable. Really, he looked a little worn out. Perhaps she did too, though he currently wasn't the one laying across the back of a very recently dead bounty hunter's horse. She watched him somewhat blearily as he calmed the horse some, giving the animal a couple pats on the neck before turning his attention toward her. Upon looking him in the face, despite knowing full well just who he was, she found her head dipping as she let out another sigh.

“Shit.”

_This is really happening._

He let out a huff of a chuckle, approaching the back of the horse, albeit a little cautiously. Louise lifted her head slightly as she felt him reach out to touch her face, a grimace crossing her face as she twisted herself away slightly.

“Well, it really is you,” he stated, some amusement found in his tone, but she knew better than to trust that as a sign that this wasn't going to end badly, “Gotta admit, when I saw your bounty poster, I didn't want to believe it. Can't seem to keep yourself out of trouble, huh, Lou?”

“You stoopin' to bounty huntin' now, Morgan?” she returned, her voice somewhat slurred and tired, “Thought you was too mighty for somethin' like this.”

“Lot's changed since you ran, hope the money you stole was worth it,” he stated, finally reaching out to pull her off the horse by her shoulders.

At the action, her brain seemed to kick into gear, Louise twisting her shoulders, though it didn't seem to deter him any. Arthur lifted her over his shoulder, Louise letting out a short yell at the fresh twinge of pain shot up her leg, the kicking and twisting stilling once her body protested with more ringing in her ears. An old anger came flooding back in on top of the pain, her teeth gritting from both.

“I didn't _run_ ,” she grunted as she felt herself shifted and dumped onto the back of a new horse, “I was _left._ I had no damn choice, but you can believe what you want. Hope it helps you sleep at night.”

“Believe me, I sleep _just_ fine...” Arthur drawled as he pulled himself back up into his saddle, turning his horse to head back out of the bush.

“Of course...” she muttered, shutting her eyes against the trotting motions as he rode, taking in a breath to calm the pounding in her chest, “What's your plan now? You turnin' me in?”

“I'm thinkin' Dutch might want to have a word before we decide if you're worth the bounty or not.”

“I would... _love_ to talk with old Dutch van der Linde. He can finally be a traitor to my face instead of leavin' me to realize it on my own.”

“You sure have a lot to say for someone who's bleedin' out the side of her head. Though, keep talkin' like that and this'll be a whole lot worse.”

Louise let out a hum, bitterness and anger lingering behind clenched teeth, but she knew trying to convince Arthur of all people to her side of things would be an impossible task. Really, she had thought that a bullet was the usual route for something like this, but if he wanted to take her back to their camp so she could see those old faces again, she wasn't protesting. Admittedly, it was something she had been dreaming about for a while, but knew better than to seek out by herself. It was something that helped quell the questions and anger in her mind once the months had ran on into years and nobody come back for her. Far as she had been concerned, that money was _hers_ at that point.

It wasn't much in the long run, but she figured she would get the chance to actually see how much offense Dutch had taken to that.

 

* * *

 

 

Louise wasn't sure how long the ride had been, how far out Arthur had set out to get her once he had supposedly saw her bounty somewhere. How old was that thing, anyway? Good couple months at least, but she figured money was money. Though, this was turning out to be a lot more personal than what it should have been. Her anger had faded out into her just trying her damnedest to twist from the ropes, the skin around her wrists burning and stinging, which then fell into a contemplative silence as she watched the ground move past once that got her nowhere. She was hot, she could feel the sun beating down on her back, soaking into her head. The motions didn't help in keeping nausea at bay, though her stomach was painfully, but fortunately, empty.

Falling in and out of consciousness wasn't helping, moments blurring together between moments where everything felt like it was too much. How the hell did she get herself into this? Could've just left things well enough alone, could've left some of her old ways at the door where she had told herself she would leave them once she had figured that nobody was going to drag her back like this. Still, money was money and it wasn't a bottomless well she could keep going back to without doing something. She had thought that she had evaded them enough. Anything that sounded vaguely familiar, she turned from and skirted around.

_Why the hell were they out this far east?_

Far as she had been aware, she'd always been told that they would settle somewhere west. Once she had figured that once they had cut her, heading east would keep her safe enough. It certainly had done so for a number of years, but it seemed it was time her past caught up with her.

Only time would tell at this point if this ended with a bullet or not. Though, she wasn't looking to die in a camp of the gang that had left her for dead. That was for damn sure.

 


	2. Conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the good reactions to the first part! This one's a good bit longer, as well. Enjoy!

Late afternoon brought Arthur's horse trotting back into camp.

Louise didn't get much of a look as Arthur rode up to hitch his horse, though the camp was much larger than she remembered it being. The area was nice, quiet, and secluded, but she felt she wouldn't find much to be _at ease_ about during her stay. The direct sunlight at the hour not bringing much relief, either, but the trees next to the horses allowed for a moment of cool air to settle over her skin. Eyes were on them as Arthur called out for Dutch, Louise letting out a steadying breath at the name. Arthur disappeared out of her vision for a few moments, though she felt him grab a hold of her legs, tugging at the rope there before she felt it removed.

Finally, she was pulled from the back of his horse, though solid ground wasn't kind to her. She crumpled slightly as her weight was shifted onto her injured leg, Arthur keeping a firm grip under one of her arms as she buckled at the knees slightly at the pain, her hands still bound behind her back. With a slight tug, she was lead toward the middle of camp, her leg on fire the whole way as she tried to limp as much as she could. Blinking some building tears from her eyes, she took in the sights, unfamiliar faces— _some_ , at least. Dutch she recognized right away as he lingered by his tent, cigar in hand as he eyed their approach. He looked as intimidating as she remembered, as much as she had regarded him as family. _Once._ Susan, too, remained close by and set her with a scathing look once Louise had glanced in her direction. She'd never gotten along with her much, but she couldn't imagine what things she'd have to say to her _now._

Not that Louise didn't have a mouthful to say as well.

Anger still lingered in her mind, it's claws gripping somewhat at the back of her mind at the sight. She didn't have much energy to show it in her body language, she couldn't show much outside of pain and exhaustion, but she could feel it in her gut. The heat and the racing of her heart had more of a stronger hold on her mind in the moment, however, her gaze not lingering on one certain person for too long, Dutch finally moved to cross over the space as Arthur lead her to a stop. She felt weak—given how wet her leg was, it wasn't a good sign. She lifted her injured leg slightly, balancing on one foot in hopes of helping the throbbing. Arthur's hold helped somewhat, intentional or not.

She needed to find some focus, as much as all of this was starting to cross over the border into _'too much'._

“Miss Winters...”

Dutch's voice hadn't changed much since she had last seen him, either. Louise lifted her head slightly to meet his gaze. Standing now somewhat close, she could see some change in him, his face, though there was something in his eyes like there always was.

His gaze didn't hold as much _fire_ as she had been expecting, though there was a hardness to be found there. It felt like he was just taking her in for a few moments, Louise doing the same. If that was disappointing or not, she couldn't tell. She could smell the cigar smoke on him, her gut twisting slightly as she felt her teeth grit behind a tight frown. With the sun pressing down against them all, the fire that shot through her leg, and the generally uncomfortable situation, her resolve to keep calm wasn't holding up all that much anymore. Even the feeling of Arthur's hand on her arm had her wanting to shove it off, as much as she needed the support.

“ _Dutch..._ ” she returned, echoing his tone fairly well, as exhausted as she was. “Long time, ain't it?”

“ _Yes_ , it has been,” he replied, his tone even. Almost a forced indifference—she was fairly sure she didn't want to be at the brunt of his anger, not right now, but in the moment she wasn't sure if she wanted to deal with this more. It was easier to read. However, Louise kept her gaze on him, watching as he seemed to look her over somewhat. Really, she must have been a sight to behold, leaking red from the leg she couldn't even keep on the ground, not to mention the injury to her head that she supposedly had. The source of her headache was hard to tell between that and the grogginess that had settled over her.

“And _where_ exactly have you been this whole time?” he asked after a few moments, casting a momentary look toward Arthur, who spoke up over her shoulder.

“Found her on a trail not too far off Valentine where she was tied to a bounty hunter's horse,” he stated, Louise watching as Dutch reached out to take the offered paper—her bounty, most likely. “Weren't too kind to her from the looks of it.”

Her head dipped slightly as Dutch opened the poster, catching some movement out of the corner of her eye as someone stepped around the side of her. Hosea was instantly recognized, too, as he cast a somewhat tense look toward Dutch, though she didn't quite find all that much _sympathy_ in his gaze. However, there was _something_ , which was more than she had been thinking she'd find. This was far from when she'd been a young teenager and had to have a man twice her age talked down by a deceptively cheerful conman—she'd always liked Hosea, but even that didn't stop some of the bitterness from lingering.

The silence, the eyes—this was too much.

“The price is decent, I know,” she muttered, “If y'all were just lookin' to turn me in, would've appreciated not havin' the extra stop. Won't even blame you, won't be the first time you've _betrayed me._ ”

Dutch's attention snapped back to her at the last sentence, the edges of the paper where his fingers met paper crumpled slightly as the anger she had been expecting flooded into his expression. He took a step closer and Louise, for all the spite in her tone, leaned her head back somewhat.

“ _We_...betrayed _you?_ ” he asked slowly, holding her gaze, “We. You _stole_ from _us!_ ”

“Barely half a take that I waited _months_ before taking as my own!” Louise snapped back, “That whole damn job was executed so _poorly_ that I had to move to _another side of the country_ before I felt even remotely safe, but no, I stole money from you that I would have given back if there had been _an effort_ to come help me!”

“The _disrespect_ to even think that money was _yours_ to take!”

“ _I had no choice!_ ”

“You always... _have a choice_ ,” Dutch stressed, his voice dropping from the near yell that the both of them were building to. Louise took in a deep breath, a shaking in her shoulders from the position she was being held in, Arthur's hand tight around her upper arm.

“The lack of faith—in _me_ , in _us_...” he continued, “To _**think**_ we wouldn't have come to get you if you had simply stayed where you were.”

“I couldn't, and you _didn't_ ,” she grit out through clenched teeth, “I waited months. I was shot at and chased—I _had_ faith and you left me. What was I _left_ to think?”

“You _would_ think that.”

“Dutch...” Hosea's voice cut through, taking a step forward slightly to glance toward him, his gaze flickering between Louise and the gang leader, “It's clear she don't have the full story. Lot of time's passed, that's a lot of room to let this sit unresolved in her head.”

“You don't think I know what I saw?” she asked, her eyes widening as she turned her gaze from Dutch's hard one to Hosea's.

“ _No_ , you don't know what you saw,” he snapped, “If you're lookin' to resolve this, continuin' like this won't do nothin'.”

“I...” she started, but stopped as she shut her mouth, letting out a heavy exhale. Did she even _want_ this resolved? All she knew was that she didn't want to get shot in the middle of this camp, but...

Dutch moved his gaze from hers toward Hosea, the anger on his face still easy to see but he didn't press much further as he seemed to mull things over. This was unexpectedly painful, she could feel a burning behind her eyes and nose, even if she may have been ignoring it while yelling. One of the only decent father figures she had known was standing across from her, looking at her with such uncertainty while still trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. One of her closest friends had tossed her onto the back of his horse and dragged her back here like she was nothing. Dutch...well, she'd always respected him and took his guidance, and she was certain he was one who had his finger on the trigger to end all of this where she stood.

...She couldn't have been _wrong_ , though, could she? All these years had passed, she wasn't exactly actively covering up her tracks and she'd been on her way to be hung or put in jail when Arthur had crossed her path again. She'd been left on her own for _years._

“We...” Hosea started again, “We pulled through those mountains, got away from Blackwater that's _far_ more complicated than what she's still holdin' onto. If there's a time to lay this to rest, it's here...”

“Put a bullet in 'er,” Susan's voice rang out, holding much more rage than what Louise had been hearing previously from Dutch himself, “She broke the rules, she knows them!”

“It's Dutch's to decide,” Hosea replied, glancing over at her as he held a hand out at his side somewhat.

“This...this is _new country_...” Dutch started after a few moments, his gaze landing back on her, “New _opportunity._ While you know what happens to people who betray us, and you _did_...Hosea may have a point. If there is time to sort this out...well, you're here. Perhaps...until we know you're _ready_ , we'll keep you in camp. There's more to what you _believe_ , more to what you _thought_ about what happened...”

He paused, looking around himself for a few moments before he pointed toward the treeline to the left.

“Tie her down. _Away_ from the O'Driscoll, we don't know what side she's on no more.”

_Oh, it's certainly not yours._

The thought put such a tenseness to her shoulders, but Louise kept her mouth shut. Arthur tugged on her arm again, leading her off toward the treeline with a couple footfalls behind them as Dutch walked back toward his tent. While she wasn't thrilled about this development, she could admit to a touch of relief that she wasn't going to get shot in the middle of camp after that shouting match.

“Whatever there is to come of this, I'm sure there won't be much said if she dies from blood loss or infection,” Hosea's voice pointed out behind them as Arthur lead her toward a tree.

“Not happenin',” Grimshaw snapped, Louise's gaze landing on her face as she was turned around as Arthur cut at the binds around her hands, removing some fresh rope as he pushed her back against a tree. For the fight that was screaming to get out of her, she knew when to pick them, so she allowed it.

“He's got a point,” Arthur pointed out, “That leg don't look good.”

“Patch her up,” Hosea stated with some finality, “Dutch'll want that in the long run, anyway. Can't sort anythin' out with a corpse.”

Susan looked like she was about to retort, but Hosea had already turned and started a beeline toward Dutch's tent. If looks could kill, Louise was pretty sure she may have died where she stood. Though, with the all the blood currently, that may be a reality soon. She was surprised she was coherent enough to even talk through all of that, but with the rage leaving her body and the shaking limbs returning, she knew that she would be feeling it in a minute or so.

“Sit her on the ground,” Susan snapped, “Want to make this a quick as possible. Don't know what the _hell_ they're thinkin', we want trouble? This is how we get it.”

“ _Yeah_...” Arthur muttered, not really sounding like he was agreeing or even invested in that statement as he pulled her away from the tree and directed her to sit on the ground. Louise felt the need to protest cropping up, but she relented.

Honestly, if she could get a clear head that wasn't fogged from blood loss and injury, maybe she'd have an idea on what she wants from this situation. She could still feel the aching in her back as she felt her hands being pulled behind her back again, rope securing them to the back of the tree as Grimshaw pulled her injured leg out toward her none to gently, ripping at the pant leg to get at the bullet wound.

_This...this is something._

 

* * *

 

Luckily, the bullet had an exit wound, which meant that it went right though. Some painful and unsympathetic stitching and a bandage later, Louise was left to stare out into the camp from her tree trunk. She could catch some curious gazes her way, but most didn't approach her all just yet, outside of the curious little boy she could only assume was Jack before Abigail pulled him away. Hours crawled by, Louise watching the sun as it felt like it was baking her flesh before it started to set. The shade cast a cool air over her, the need for sleep gripping her for a while as she lay with her back against the tree, legs sprawled out. Sleep came in bursts, realization that she had nodded off would come as she would jerk awake, fear gripping at her heart for a few moments before settling.

However, she was very much asleep when someone had approached in the late evening, carrying a chair. She jerked awake at the sound of her name, blinking in the settling darkness as Hosea sat himself down on the chair. He was carrying a bowl of something, a cup in his hand. He let out a low sigh accompanied with a wheezing cough, placing the bowl down on the ground before he leaned over, holding the cup toward her mouth.

“Drink,” he ordered, Louise not having to be told twice as she took down the water in big gulps, the itchiness in the back of her throat easing instantly, “Don't say I haven't done anythin' for you.”

“Hm.”

Louise watched carefully as he leaned back over to pick up the bowl—food, though it looked like he wasn't sharing that. He'd dragged his company over here for a reason, she knew, so she could only hope he wasn't looking just to eat in front of her while she lay bound to tree. Her assumption was proven right as he let out another sigh, leaning forward to rest an arm against his knee.

“Damn mess you got yourself into,” he commented, looking off toward camp.

“Didn't stop you from steppin' in,” she returned, her voice a little rough, but quiet.

“Figure you should get a chance to make a choice on gettin' a bullet or not once you got the story straight, if in you still want that.” He glanced back toward her. “Your facts aren't straight, and you want Dutch to know that too. Shoutin' at him like that, it ain't a good start.”

“I'd been shot and hit over the head by some bounty hunter, then Arthur showed up and killed him and lugged me all the way back here while treating me like nothin' but cargo—I was a little angry.”

“He had every right to,” Hosea returned, his tone harsh, “Far as we knew, you just took off like nothin'.”

“I waited, Hosea,” Louise snapped, “For months. Nobody showed up.”

“I know,” he replied, “However, you can't find us, we can't find you. Being chased around like you were, how were we supposed to get to you?”

“ _A little effort._ ”

“See, you keep talkin' like that, you'll get yourself killed here. You don't want that, I read it on your face.”

Louise seemed to stand down a bit at that, teeth clenching behind a glare. However, she found her gaze moving from his face toward some figures around a fire in camp, hearing some talking but nothing she could make out. The camp had grown—greatly. They weren't just a little family group anymore, some faces old, some new, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to be a part of it. Not after everything, but...she'd always been stubborn. Admittedly, there had been a lot of holes in her understanding on what happened, what went wrong. However, leaving the story with those holes left her to fill them in herself and with years to sit on the conclusions she had came to, well, it made her bitter and angry.

“You were all my family...” she muttered, “Hell, first time you found me you had to talk me out of getting killed. I trusted...”

“Long time ago, now,” Hosea sighed, rubbing at his chin, “Things have changed. Ain't so simple anymore, and you showin' up like this...”

“Wasn't my choice. Arthur could have left well enough alone.”

“Robbery, murder—you had a chance to get out. We had no idea where you were.”

“What I got away with, it weren't much. I ran through it quick and I was left to pick up pieces in whatever way I knew. I wasn't needlessly killin', but I wasn't goin' to just let myself get shot if someone fired first.”

“Use that to your advantage, then. You ran out of that money so quick, maybe you'll earn it back just as quick.”

“...You don't want me dead?”

Hosea paused at that, looking back toward her fully. Honestly, Louise hadn't been expecting to hear that and the question had slipped out of her without much knowledge. That didn't mean that she didn't want to know the answer.

“Don't think it's fair that you die because you won't listen to reason,” he replied after a few moments, “If you get the full story and still want to go out cursing us, that's your choice. However, I know you. You're smarter than that. Dutch knows you, too.”

“I don't know if that's true,” she muttered, “Was a long time ago, like you said.”

“Well, use your head. That's all I'm askin'. I stuck my neck out for you, don't forget that.”

“I...I can't bring myself to _thank you_ after everythin', but I appreciate that. I do.”

“I don't need it. You better _do_ somethin'.”

“...I'll try.”

Hosea hummed, a tired sound. However, it seemed like that was all he wanted to say. Louise watched as he gathered his things and stood, pulling the chair back toward camp as she watched on from the outside. With a sigh, she let her head dip, looking at the bandage around her leg. It still throbbed with pain, and little still remained in her head, but that was also Hosea's doing as well. Her brows narrowed, confusion and frustration brewing in her.

She loved Hosea—she loved all of them. She wouldn't be so angry and hurt if that weren't true, but things...well, she wasn't sure if it was wise to let go. At least, not until she really understood. Standing in the middle of camp with all watching on, her and Dutch yelling at each other while she was slowly bleeding out...it wasn't a good start. With another sigh, she closed her eyes.

The way she had thought about this happening, what she had dreamed about with rage tight in her chest, it didn't feel as conflicting.

 


	3. Dealings

So, there _was_ an O'Driscoll in camp.

At least, that was what she had gathered, considering Dutch hadn't wanted her anywhere near them. She was in no position to barter for her freedom with them anyway, if they were even inclined to help in the first place, but it was an interesting bit of information that she had managed to gather.

Louise had woken up at the crack of dawn after she had passed out shortly after her talk with Hosea, a scattered and unsatisfying sleep with her bound to a tree with moments of the day replaying in her head. She had watched silently as the camp had slowly come back to life, Grimshaw's voice carrying as she delegated out the chores once enough people were up and about. There had been some more curious glances, her gaze unabashedly meeting those who glanced her way. A couple women, a blonde with a brunette who held a book to her chest, and man with a white hat who lingered as if he was sizing her up, but nobody had actually approached just yet. Her shoulders were starting to ache badly, her leg still throbbing but not as bad laying still than when she tried to move it. However, her stomach was begging for something other than a cup of water from the night before and would not let her forget it.

Did they want to wear her down before she could talk? Perhaps. She couldn't see a reason why they wouldn't. Dutch had cast a look her way, his face unreadable from where he stood, but his gaze lingered for a few moments before his attention was pulled elsewhere. To the O'Driscoll. Louise couldn't get a good look from where she was sitting, a number of tents and horses in the way, but she could hear some shouting. Eventually he emerged into eyesight, followed by who she could assume was John, another man, and Arthur. The man looked...well, he didn't look good. He had obviously been held much longer than she had, if the state of his clothes were anything to go off of. She couldn't hear anything from where she was but he didn't look like any sort of threat, but she hadn't been around to see just why he was in camp. Louise had been well aware of the animosity between Dutch and Colm since Annabelle, a woman that she could barely remember, but Dutch had loved dearly. The fact that he wasn't dead was certainly interesting.

However, she could say the same for herself.

Really, she knew better, but she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him. Might have been treated worse than her, as much as it was hard to believe. She watched somewhat blearily as the group of them took off into the trees as she started to realize how uncomfortable the sun was making her.

“You hungry, sweetheart?”

The tone of voice made her skin crawl. Louise shifted her gaze to the right of her, the same man who had been sizing her up from earlier in the morning lingered behind the tent she was tied behind, an apple held out toward her as if he was trying to lure an animal closer to him. There was a look about him, this play at sympathy that felt like it had something else tied into it—she didn't trust it.

“Can't use my arms to eat that,” she stated, inclining her head toward him.

“S'okay, I'll hold it for you,” he replied, letting out a chuckle, causing her to wrinkle her nose some.

“No, thank you.”

“Hm. Suit yourself...” he replied, letting his hand come back to his side as he seemed to take a thoughtful glance around the area some, “You used to run with us?”

“...Long while ago.”

“And you ain't shot yet. Why's that?”

“I don't know, ask Dutch,” she muttered, letting out a sigh as she wished he would just walk off already. Her gaze cut back to him as he let out another small chuckle, his tone moving from the fake concern to outright mocking.

“Oh, where's that _fire_ I saw yesterday, huh?”

“I spent the night tied to a damn tree,” she snapped, “Not really in the mood to be talkin' to someone like you.”

“Well, you want some help, don't you?” he asked, tilting his head, “See...we lost a _lot_ of money before you showed up. Locked up in a town we can't get back into, and then you come wanderin' in here, no name to yourself back from where we came from...”

Louise let out a short chuckle, dipping her head as a humorless smirk crossed her face before glancing back up at him. Oh, she knew where this was going.

“If you haven't noticed, this gang left me at the mercy of a hangman's noose and they think I stole from them. _Nobody's_ goin' to be askin' me to get no lost money for them any time soon, and I ain't all that _keen._ ”

“Nobody's asked you anythin' _yet_ ,” he stated, “but it's a thought.”

“ _Your_ thought.”

He raised his hands somewhat in mock surrender, stepping back slightly. “Just thought I'd point it out, case you wanted somethin' to help you.”

“Appreciate it, but I don't need your help.”

“The hell are you two talkin' about?”

Dutch had walked up off to the side as Louise had been talking with this stranger, his voice tight as she glanced over at him. However, his eyes were sternly on the man across from him, his head tilted somewhat as the other man raised his hands again slightly, gesturing vaguely toward her.

“Tryin' to talk some sense into her,” he stated, “Seein' as y'all are lookin' to come to some sort of _common ground_ , thought I'd help her along.”

“Oh, are we?” Dutch asked, his tone still just as tight, “What _sense_ is there in her knowin' about the Blackwater job, Micah?”

“We _need_ that money, Dutch...”

“And I said I was thinkin' about it. If I wanted your help in talkin' to Miss Winters here, I would ask.”

“...My mistake, boss,” Micah replied, sounding far from apologetic as he stepped back fully to slink back off into camp.

Louise watched him go as she let out a small breath she didn't know she had been holding, feeling like this wouldn't be the last time he'd bring that up. Though she didn't get to think on that for long as she noticed Dutch hadn't followed out after him. She glanced up at him, meeting his gaze as he seemed to study her. After a few moments of silence, she shifted against the tree trunk as he moved to stand in front of her.

“As for you...are you hungry, my dear?”

_Starving._ If she hadn't been completely thrown off Micah's approach, turning down that apple may have been twice as hard. Though, being asked again wasn't helping her in trying to ignore how badly her stomach needed food. Micah's _'sweetheart'_ had been mocking, but Dutch's term of endearment was distant and formal. It was as if he was picking it instead of saying her name. 'Miss Winters' had replaced 'Louise' and 'Lou'. The third had usually been said with some sort of affection to his tone—probably as far from his current tone as those times were, now.

Louise didn't give him an answer, but it was clear that she obviously was.

“Hm. From hurling insults to silence. I understand Hosea talked to you last night?”

“...Yes.” It really was the reason in her shift in character, at least right now. Perhaps exhaustion and some need for survival had her anger pushed to the back somewhat, but she had spent a good couple hours the night before turning the whole conversation over in her head.

Louise knew what they were supposed to do with traitors, as much as she didn't feel like she had been the one to betray the gang. However, she was clearly outnumbered and she wasn't stupid enough to challenge all the guns in camp. Still, for what could have ended in a bullet, and with how she had been ready to rip into Dutch, it likely was headed there. Hosea _had_ stuck his neck out. He'd done it for her when, for all he knew, she had really betrayed them all. A short exhale escaped her nose at the thought.

_Damn it._

“If...” she started, biting on the inside of her cheek slightly before continuing, “If I'm allowed somethin' to eat...I'll sit and listen to whatever you need to say, Dutch.”

“You think you're in the position to be makin' _requests?_ ”

His eyebrows had lifted some, his tone still tinged with anger—no doubt there was plenty left over from the previous day, but it didn't sound like he was spitting the words out between his teeth. Not _yet_ , anyway. Louise wasn't ready to completely bend to his will, she doubted that she ever will be, but she didn't really have the energy to start another screaming match with him. It wasn't likely someone would intervene at this point. Still, she couldn't help but push some.

“It's as you say—save folk as need savin', feed em' as need feedin', as kill em' as need killin'...” she was paraphrasing from old memories, but she figured he may still be keeping by that, “You ain't killed me yet, and the only danger I see is in the idea that you're lookin' to change that.”

The silence that lingered after, as short as it really was in reality, was enough to put some tension just under the stare she was holding on the man in front of her. Things had been rough the day before, pushing like this may have been a bad idea, but she couldn't very well pull the words back in. She'd implied he had been a _traitor_ —may have almost called him such to his face. There were worse things she could have said, as true as she felt they were. However, she wasn't expecting the sudden exhale, a chuckle held back but she could see the amusement cross his features if only momentarily.

“For all the damn trouble you bring with you, you was always more clever than you give yourself credit for...” he commented, removing a knife from his belt as he moved around her. The words were a little lighter than expected, but the tension was far from gone. She felt him grab at her arm slightly, cutting away at the ropes around her wrists. “We will _see_ if Mr. Pearson will _spare you_ something from his wagon while he talk.”

The tension from her shoulders lessened some as the ropes were released, Louise bringing her arms forward to rub at her wrists and roll her shoulders some. However, she was hauled to her feet shortly after by Dutch, though he had some insight to wait until she stopped sucking in breaths of air as the pain that ripped through her injured leg stilled some before she started the limp toward his tent. Thankfully, there wasn't much of an audience this time, though her entrance the other day had been nothing but dramatic. She noticed Hosea rise from where he was sitting at the table in the middle of camp, closing some paper that he was reading in his lap as they passed.

“That soon, huh?”

“You always had a way of makin' her see what was in front of her,” Dutch commented, “Some things never change.”

_Oh, she hated this already._

There was no way for her to erase the past she had with them, much as both sides had definitely pretended for a while that there had been nothing, but this felt _familiar._ She really should have felt some relief that there was something other than animosity, but it was if things hadn't even changed with her while her whole view on them had been flipped on its head. It was enough to make her want to lash out against the feeling of Dutch's hand wrapped around her forearm, Louise forcing herself to take a breath in as she stepped up onto the wooden flooring of the tent. Dutch directed her to sit on a chair that had been moved from outside the tent, Louise taking it gladly as the burning in her leg was getting to her.

“Hosea, can you ask Mr. Pearson if he can spare an apple or something for our _guest_ here?” Dutch asked, turning to his companion as Louise noticed a redheaded woman lingering nearby. She looked confused, for lack of a better word, though she didn't intervene as she continued to watch on. Louise eyed her for a few moments before Dutch sat himself down on the cot across from her, hands resting against his knees as he leaned toward her.

“Now...what do we do with you?”

“You said yesterday there was...more to what I _believe_ and _think_ ,” Louise replied, having those words echoed in her head all night, “I'm findin' that hard to believe.”

“Are you? I'm findin' _that_ hard to believe,” Dutch returned, “I think you'd still be tied to that tree if that were true. Hosea thinks you've been... _mislead_ and confused about events because all you know is _your_ side.”

“I weren't exactly offered another viewpoint...” she took in a breath, feeling that familiar tension gripping at her chest that threatened to spill out like it did the day before, “I...I waited, Dutch. _For you._ Things, they...they fell apart, Arthur and I got separated by some law and I was told to meet somewhere but nobody came _but_ the damn law.”

“That ain't _Arthur's_ fault, now.”

“No, it ain't. I agree. What I _do_ blame him for is not listenin' to me. I _told_ him we needed to stick together, but he wanted to separate—we were gettin' into a gunfight either way, didn't help us at all in the end. I did what I was told because I _trusted_ him and I was left out there. It ain't all Arthur's fault, but he didn't come, you didn't, Hosea didn't, Grimshaw, John. _Nobody._ ”

“What you don't understand was that _we did_ ,” Dutch replied, his tone just as hard. Louise leaned back in the chair somewhat, teeth clenched as she forced another breath into her lungs. She'd promised she'd _listen_ , as much as she wanted to interject as to why she wasn't _with them_ currently if that were the case. “Like I said, if you had stayed where you were, we would have come back for you.”

“If I had stayed where I was, you would've seen me at the end of a rope or behind bars.”

“Maybe that's where you needed to be so we could get to you.”

“ _Really!?_ ”

Hosea had appeared around the entrance to the tent at Louise's outburst, her back pressed flat against the back of the chair, eyes wide. Dutch sat up straight, glancing toward Hosea after he had appeared, an apple in his hand. He extended it out toward her, Louise eyeing it for a few moments before she took it from him, letting her hands rest in her lap as she stared down at it. Anger simmered in her gut, stinging and painful as she tried to calm herself down again.

“We had followed what little trail we could,” Dutch continued, “You were long gone with _half a score_ by the time it was too late to do anythin'.”

“I'm bein' _punished_...for not bein' able to wait until some officer _shot me_ or I ended up waitin' on a _hangman's noose?_ Dutch...I waited _months_ with that money. I didn't even spend any of it until I was out east and understood that nobody were coming back. By the time I had made my mind up, some lawmen had shown up at my door—I lost my damn horse in tryin' to get out of there. I had left enough of a trail for anybody to find me until I had to give up and _run._ ”

“You knew where to find camp, where you were supposed to meet if you got split up—you did nothin' _but_ run.”

“ _I was pressed!_ ” she exclaimed, “You...You were all I had. All of you. I _loved_ you! You think I _wanted_ to leave? I could've gone back, but there was no way I could without—”

“Don't frame this like you were _protectin' us_ ,” Dutch snapped, “You _stole_ from us.”

“You set _impossible_ tasks for me, Dutch, even now,” she stated, sounding exhausted, “Gettin' back to this point, waitin' on some lawmen to do whatever they wanted with me, in hopes that _maybe_ you'd get there in time? I did what I _had to._ Weren't right of me to take the money, but I didn't see _any other options._ I ain't some skilled outlaw who can see _every little_ opportunity, I took what was given to me.”

There was an exhaustion that settled right then as the words left her mouth, pressing hard against her head and shoulders. It felt like it came from somewhere deep—she had mulled it over and over for years, ran over _every_ word. She'd imagined yelling them, screaming them, sobbing them out in some sort of plea for understanding, and yet her tone was level like it was a story she told a million times. All her life she had just taken what was given to her—her father's distance and deathbed words that it was her fault that her mother decided she was better off without them and had forced him to work in the mine that made him so sick. Took what little money she could get from the streets as a young teen. Took what orders she could get from Dutch, Hosea, Arthur, whoever. Now, after this had happened, she made a choice _against_ just weathering what was thrown at her because she knew it would have _killed_ her.

Maybe they didn't see that, but she certainly did.

Louise didn't lift her head at the silence that followed, almost studying every cut, bump, and bruise on the apple in her hands without once bringing it up to her mouth. Her stomach was twisting, but it wasn't from hunger in the moment. She was tired, isolated, and wanted this settled in whatever way she could get it. If it was death, fine. If it wasn't, she could deal with that too.

“You said you got through the cash you took pretty quickly,” Hosea's voice cut through, not quite comforting but there wasn't much of an edge toward it, “How much?”

“Think it was 'bout two hundred.”

She heard Dutch huff, Louise lifting her head to see him shaking his head. “Three.”

“Fine, _three._ ”

“It ain't pocket change, but she could pay that back eventually. Hell, we've done scores that pay more than that in total,” Hosea supplied, Louise eyeing him from her chair. Really, that feeling from before came back to the surface, making her bite the inside of her cheek.

“That man from a while ago—think you said his name was Micah? Didn't directly ask me but he implied that—“

“I'd be a damned _fool_ to let you down in Blackwater to get that money for us,” Dutch interrupted, “I know what he _asked_ , but that's a gang matter. It ain't business of yours.”

“That's what I told him, but figured I'd try...” Louise muttered, letting out a sigh through her nose.

“Ain't nobody askin' her to get the money, but let her work,” Hosea offered, “All cuts go back to camp, she can pay that money back and we can decide from there...”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, watching as Dutch seemed to consider that. He didn't seem all that convinced, fingers twitching in his lap. Really, she didn't like the idea that there was no solid idea on what they would do with her once that money was back. Granted, she had no way to pay back that much of an amount on hand anyway, nor did she have it back in her home, but it put a bit of a pit in her stomach. There was a slight personal twinge at what Dutch had said before about _'gang business'_ , but in the moment she was more concerned about getting herself in a situation that she didn't know the ending of.

Dutch glanced back over at her, Louise meeting his gaze for a few moments before he opened his mouth.

“You think you could do that?”

She didn't answer straight away, shifting lightly in her seat as she took another glance at Hosea, who was also watching her carefully. Well...

“What's the alternative? A shotgun to the gut?” she asked, glancing back over at Dutch. She didn't need an answer to that, she already knew it. Though, his silence was telling before she took in a breath and shrugged. “Guess I ain't got another choice, then.”

“ _That's reassurin'_ ,” Dutch muttered, glancing over at Hosea who shifted from leaning against the tent pole to glance between the two of them.

“Let her come with me,” Hosea stated, glancing over toward her, “Was goin' to ask Arthur to come hunt a bear with me, think we might get a good price off that pelt. 'Less your navigation skills ain't what they used to be.”

“Haven't hunted much, but sure,” Louise muttered, taking a sideways glance at Dutch, “Can't exactly walk, though.”

“Rest it up, you can do it all from a horse.”

“Don't have one of those, either.”

“We'll sort it out,” Hosea stated, sounding a little irritated, glancing back toward Dutch, “Between Arthur and I, she won't get far if she wants to run.”

_Feels like they're going to put me out to pasture_ , she thought bitterly, but held her tongue. Really, Hosea could put out any sort of plan he wanted, but Dutch got the final say. Really always was that way, at least that hadn't changed since she was young. He shifted, eyeing her for a few moments before he nodded his head.

“Things ain't how they were before, they're changin' and we're hopin' for the better,” he explained, “Quite the _hand of fate_ that dropped you in our laps again like this but...you prove you can handle that, I'll think about trustin' you to get involved in camp. I'm sure Grimshaw could think of _plenty_ to keep you busy.”

This...this was unexpected. Louise couldn't find it in her retort, taking in a breath before nodding her head lightly. Again, the alternative wasn't better than what she was offered—by a long shot, but...it didn't exactly put her at ease. She was looking at people who she used to trust with her life and now she couldn't really trust actually sleeping among them at night, but it would something she would have to get used to.

A mess. This was a mess. However, she guessed if they really wanted that money back, seeing it through could put her at a leverage in keeping herself alive if they decided they would rather her dead at the end of it all. That or they wanted to turn her in for the bounty. That was always hovering over her head.

“Well, then I would take Hosea's advice and rest up,” Dutch stated, his tone far from comforting as he stood, Louise struggling to a stand herself as she nodded, quiet for once. She had been waiting for the conversation to end after he had dragged her over to the tent.

“Let's find you a bedroll,” Hosea stated, reaching out to steady her some once she started to limp from Dutch's tent as she took a big bite out of the apple that had sat in her hands the whole time.

She chewed somewhat bitterly, happy for the food but not the situation in the slightest. Her gaze moved to glance at him out of the corner of her eye, swallowing as she tried to keep up with his pace.

“...Thank you,” she stated, somewhat quietly as if she couldn't quite get the words out, “for sparin' me a bullet, at least. Again. I know the others would've thought different.”

“We lost enough folk in the mess that got us over here,” he explained, glancing back at her, “Tones might change if you take this chance. Hunt this bear with us, pay back what you took. If you and Arthur don't kill each other before this trip is done, that is.”

“Up to him.”

“Well, make it easy on me if he won't,” he muttered, “Ain't exactly...sure how to feel 'bout this whole situation, but you're still alive and Dutch is givin' you somethin' he don't usually offer when people betray him.”

“I _didn't_ —“

“I don't want to hear it.” Hosea raised a hand up slightly to stop her protest, Louise scowling at him before shaking her head. Oh, she'd be barkin' up that tree a lot, she could feel it. “Just do what you can. See what changes.”

 


	4. Horses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, life's been a little busier as of late. 
> 
> I think I'm splitting this mission up into two or three chapters. Plus, I want to add new dialogue and conversations while also not just spitting canon dialogue back out word for word. I've already messed a little with the order of things anyway so. lol
> 
> Any feedback is appreciated!!

Sleep had come and go in bursts, paranoia leaking in around the edges during moments where she was awake enough to know where she was. She'd been set up with a bedroll and a somewhat secluded spot near where some of the woman slept. Granted, having her arms free for the first time in a couple days was very much appreciated, but she couldn't help but worry. She really missed her quiet cabin. Apparently, however, she had managed to get enough sleep to wake to some sunlight just starting to crack over the horizon. Louise exhaled, staring out at it over the tops of the tents near the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley.

It was peaceful and almost enough to make her want to fall back asleep, but she could feel her brain starting to stir as reality sunk in. Day three and she was still alive, and apparently had been allowed to be so until she could pay back what she took from them. Really, it was more reasonable than she had been expecting. Hell, she figured some might say that was _too_ reasonable for what happened. However, there was no way she had been ready for any sort of gun fight, as much as she was indeed ready to fight. Dutch didn't seem like he was completely on board with the idea of her working for them again, which didn't sit too nicely on her mind. However, she may just have to get used to that feeling and being around these people again, much less _familial_ this time around. There was a part of her that was glad nobody was trying to push the idea that they should just be family again, while a part of her knew that all of this did hurt deep down. It spurred some thoughts and feelings that she had to shove down and lock away for now. Still, there was some bear hunting to do—which was curious, to say the least, but Hosea had deemed it worth the time.

Riding along with _Arthur_ , though?

The thought made her shove her face back into the crook of her arm as a sigh fell from her. She'd given Hosea some promise that she wouldn't goad him on into making this more difficult than expected, but she had a feeling that doing so may be difficult at points. Still, she had made _some_ progress with Dutch and Hosea, as little as it felt with the former, so perhaps it was a chance to see where things stood with Arthur. She had gotten a good idea when she'd been strapped to the back of his horse, but things were a little more complicated than she had been thinking back at that point. It had only been a day or so ago, but everything felt like it was whizzing by and also crawling at a snail's pace in some aspects. With another sigh, she lifted her head to glance toward the front of camp where the horses stood, seeing Hosea looking over what appeared to be a rifle.

_Might as well._

Honestly, she was a little scared to move her leg. As it were, there wasn't really any pain but she knew it would be pretty painful until she found her footing again. Possibly even more so as the day went on, but she'd walked some the previous so she figured she could try it. Louise took in a breath, lifting her leg as she shifted to a sit. Immediately, a throbbing started to build around the injury and muscle around it. That was going to be rough. With a few attempted tries and some hobbling, she managed to stand fully on her legs, relaxing her jaw slightly as the pain subsided somewhat to some tingling in her toes. She took a glance around herself for anything she may need to take, but she hadn't exactly been taken to camp with much on her, if anything. It would be strange to go hunting without a weapon, but it seemed Hosea just wanted her navigation and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to hunt much with how her leg was. While it didn't hurt as bad, there was also her head. There was a part of her that was glad she couldn't see how she looked but it didn't take much to feel the bruising that had formed there.

Louise made her way toward where Hosea was sitting, his head lifting at her approach.

“There she is,” he commented, “Lookin' a moment away from fallin'.”

“Haven't moved much in a day, just need to get used to standin' on it again,” she replied, shifting so she could put some of her weight against a nearby tree, looking out toward the camp, “What's the plan?”

“Well, I'd been told about quite the bear out in the Grizzlies, figure it might be worth the trip. Arthur'll be along in a couple minutes, figure we'll cut through Valentine, pick you up your own horse for the trip so I won't have to put myself through the torture of makin' you two ride together the whole way. Might take a couple days.”

“Thanks for that...” she muttered in return, watching as he seemed to glance over her for a moment.

“I know I invited you, but if you ain't up for it—“

“I'd rather be out there than stayin' here under the eye of Dutch and Grimshaw's fist. I figure she's quite the distance from forgiveness, so I'm willin' to put that off as much as I can. I can handle it. Like you said, I can do it from a horse. I'm assumin' you just need my eyes.”

“Alright,” he relented, “Long as you don't point us out into the middle of nowhere once we're away from civilization, it should be fine.”

“You're the ones with the weapons...”

Hosea let out a low hum in response, the still lingering darkness making the expression on his face hard to read but at least he was talking with her instead of _at_ her. As conflicted as she felt about what she had been told, there was a bitter feeling that she had spent the last couple days being continuously corrected and her resolve to disagree had been fraying at the edges in light of it. However, she was still stuck by her opinion that she had done what she felt was her only option she saw back then, as much as they weren't giving her much room to insist upon that. Still, she at least had a goal and she knew that her making money might keep Dutch from being the one to put a bullet in her.

However, she couldn't say the same for the others outside of Hosea, who seemed to be the only one who was attempting to bridge what happened directly. Then again, that could change. Her lips pressed to a thin line, not enjoying the thought as she stood beside the man himself. Yet, she didn't have to remain in her thoughts for too long as a figure wandered over toward them, Louise catching Arthur's gaze through the dim light of the early morning, the expression she was able to see not too impressed. Hosea rose up from his rock as he came to a stop, strapping his gun across his back as he glanced between the two of them.

“We ready to go?”

“We really takin' her along?” Arthur asked, Louise holding back a sigh, “She can barely walk.”

“Well, if I can stand, I'm sure I can sit on a horse,” Louise replied, despite the question not aimed at her but she was damn well standing there anyway.

“Dutch is givin' her some leeway, so figure we should give her a chance to prove that was the right move,” Hosea replied, “Louise here has already given me her answer and I already told Dutch she was goin'. Might be in your best interests to _try_ to get along, seein' as Silver Dollar don't take kindly to passengers.”

“The _shire_ will?” Arthur asked with a borderline humorless huff, watching on as Hosea gave a sort of one-armed shrug in response.

“Saddle up! I don't want to sit around debatin' this, it's been decided. Louise, ride with Arthur there until we can get you somethin'. Try not to toss each other off.”

Arthur lingered in front of her for a few moments as Hosea made his way toward his horse, turning to glance down at her. Oh, he looked as thrilled as she felt about this but if she didn't have much of a choice, she could assume he didn't either. In this situation, anyway. Still, she could see his hesitance and she found herself nodding toward where they had been keeping the O'Driscoll—who seemed to have been allowed off his post.

“You pulled that O'Driscoll boy off that tree stump and right onto the back of the horse to ride off to lord knows where, and he looked worse than me,” she commented, “Help me up onto the horse and it'll be fine.”

“I ain't carryin' you this whole time, best you know that,” Arthur returned, finally moving toward the horses as Louise limped behind him, letting out her own humorless chuckle.

“Oh, I know I ain't wanted here, y'all did a great job in makin' that clear. I told Dutch I'd do this, so I'd like to get it done. It's just to Valentine then you won't have to _carry me._ ”

It took some resolve not to let the bite take over her tone, but her teeth were certainly clenched behind her frown.

However, Arthur seemed to accept that, some relief settling in her gut at the lack of response she received, though the burning frustration she felt was something she was having a hard time shaking. Really, with how things had started, she had a feeling it would be present for a long while yet. It took some maneuvering, but Arthur managed to help pull her up behind him on the mentioned horse. He really was a big one, Louise sucking in some air at the throbbing that settled into her leg again as she tried to get situated, feeling the horse shifting somewhat harshly under her. Thankfully, Hosea didn't waste much more time and he lead them back down the path, Louise keeping a hand curled in the back of Arthur's jacket as they started to move away from camp.

Things were quiet for a bit, the sound of the horses' breathing and hooves hitting dirt filling the space around her as she watched the landscape. She had been out this way only a handful of times, her choice of residence out in the Grizzlies itself, likely near where they were headed. Strawberry and Valentine weren't towns she spent her time in, nor did she really linger in them unless she needed something. Eyes on her, it had always made her uncomfortable, as much as she had believed that most of her problems were out west. She really opted to avoid towns altogether if she could.

However, she guessed it didn't matter anymore, considering it was now showing that her problems didn't care where she was, they found a way back.

Some conversation flowed between Arthur and Hosea as the sun started to rise, the names mentioned belonging to people she didn't know or recognize. They had apparently lost some people, Louise knowing that whatever the Blackwater job that had been mentioned to her seemed a _bigger_ disaster than what had stranded her in the first place. She wondered if they'd pulled off anything worthwhile since, as all she had heard about was how badly their latest one went, but she bit back the question. She knew that comment was an explosive waiting to go off. Really, it was a conversation she had no place in and she felt it.

Really, this whole trip was going to be a long one on that fact alone. The older members were people she knew and had loved back in the day, but this wasn't the same gang she had grown up in anymore.

 

* * *

 

She caught the eye of the stable owner almost immediately after she had all but fallen off the back of the horse—temperamental was a word for him, that was for sure. As much as she tried to hide the pain from her face, she really was all too glad to be off that horse, but it seemed like just ducking in to buy a horse was something that might be a bit of a struggle.

The look that settled on the man's features was a touch suspicious, though it appeared it wasn't for _her_ as he took a glance toward Hosea and Arthur. Louise quickly realized just how she looked, an easy smile crossing her face as she raised her hands somewhat, palms facing outward as if trying to calm him from an outburst she wasn't sure would come. Really, considering the bruise on her head and the fact that she was hobbling around on an obvious injury, along with the fact that she probably didn't look all too well in general, she couldn't really blame him any for thinking she was in a bad situation.

“It ain't what it looks like,” she explained in a low voice, “They ain't the ones who did this to me, I'm just lookin' for a horse like my acquaintance there.”

“...You sure, miss?”

“Absolutely,” she stated with a nod, “I know I don't look too well at all but I'm just lookin' to move on from it, so it would be a _great_ help if I could just take a look at the horses.”

He didn't appear like he was too convinced, but Louise gave him an almost pleading look as she let her hands come back down to her side. Lord, she just wanted to buy a horse, she didn't want some misplaced drama with it. She guessed she should have figured that her state would make her stand out a bit, but it was _Valentine_. Rough looking farmers and drunks stumbling around, she shouldn't have been much of a sight, but the man in the stable certainly seemed to notice. Well, she guessed she couldn't get too annoyed at him acting like a decent man—she'd definitely seen worse. Eventually he relented, showing her what they had stabled as Arthur had picked out his own horse after selling the shire they had rode in on. Louise wasn't looking for a permanent horse—she would be able to find better once she had more of her mobility back and more money in her pockets. There was also the horse she had back home, though she was uncertain if he had stuck around after the commotion that got her to where she currently was.

_Poor guy._ She really wondered if she'd be able to head back up there to collect a few things soon—namely her weapons and clothing but she would definitely take her horse if he was still there. Really, she had no idea how long she would be staying. Three hundred dollars was a bit of a feat. Still, she figured she should just focus on this at the moment.

Settling on buying a Tennessee Walker, she worked on saddling him up and climbing back up. The smaller horse put less strain on her leg and that was all she really wanted in the moment. The horse seemed sturdy, calm, Louise reaching down to pat him on the side of his neck before she was handed her papers and some supplies to care for him. She caught the look the man cast her as he handed over her things, Louise giving him another reassuring smile before she rode the horse back out into the street where Arthur and Hosea were waiting.

“Think we should get out of here before that man decides he'd rather be a knight riding the horses than selling them,” she muttered once she approached, Arthur shooting her a look.

“The hell'd you do?”

“ _Nothin'_ ,” she replied, her tone tight, “Look at me. I don't exactly look like a lady steppin' out of a stagecoach now, do I?”

“As I recall, you was never able to pull off that type of character,” Hosea muttered, a knowing look on his face, “Just had to start talkin'.”

“I've gotten better at it. Manners was never really somethin' my family cared about,” she muttered in return, hearing a light scoff from Arthur beside her, but she couldn't exactly tell if he was amused or sour about it all still. She figured it was the latter and, knowing him, might be for a good while.

“Well, guess we better ride then, we still got a ways to go,” Hosea continued, spurring Silver Dollar into a trot as Louise and Arthur followed after.

She winced at the pain that blossomed with her squeezing her legs around the side of her horse, the animal learning to keep at a pace behind Arthur but she figured she was going to be pretty sore once they reached where they were headed or stopped for the night. It was enough to keep her somewhat alert, if not uncomfortable as they moved out toward the mountains. Now, this was starting to feel more like _home_ to her, though that hadn't always been the case but in the moment she certainly missed it. As they rode on, it seemed like Hosea and Arthur were interested in continuing their conversation from before, though Louise's attention wasn't able to drift off as mention of John came into the spotlight.

John was another familiar face she knew from her past with them, though her memories had him looking much younger than he did now. He was someone she knew she would need to talk with eventually, too. However, mention of him wasn't met with much fondness from Arthur as Hosea asked about if he was going to let go of this supposed grudge he held against him.

“He left us for a damn _year_ , Hosea,” Arthur returned, “He ain't Trelawny, nobody else would've been let back in that easy—though, it's lookin' like our ways on that are changin' if Lou back here is anythin' to look at.”

“Lord, is anything ever explained to you?” she snapped, “I ain't back in your gang, I'm bein' dragged along out of _debt._ Wherever that puts me, I'm pretty damn sure I ain't goin' to end up a _Van der Linde_ again.”

“Louise and John are two completely different stories,” Hosea interjected, his tone tight now that there was an argument brewing, “You weren't there when she was talkin' with Dutch. This ain't about her right now.”

“The hell it ain't,” Arthur returned, turning to glance back at her over his shoulder, “John may have been gone a year but he can't hold a candle to how long _she's_ been gone.”

“You're actin' like I just _turned up_ lookin' to join again like _you_ weren't the one to seek me out and drag me back here,” Louise snapped, glaring at the back of his head as he turned to glance at the trail out ahead, “Actually, you're draggin' me into a conversation I ain't got no business in right now—you just can't stop doin' that, huh? I'm just here to hunt a damn bear.”

“Well, there she goes again, avoidin' all—“

“You two keep goin' like this, I'm lettin' the damn bear eat you both,” Hosea called out from upfront, “ _Enough._ Let you two near each other and you're right back into actin' like _children._ ”

“I don't like this, Hosea,” Arthur returned plainly, Louise letting out a scuff.

“I can agree with that.”

“I know you don't,” Hosea returned, “It's Dutch's call and Louise's story to tell. If you two can take a breath and stop goin' for the other's throat, you might be able to sort it out.”

Arthur didn't give a response to that, but she was able to see him shake his head from where she was riding. Really, she knew she would need to reel that anger back in, but being put under fire like that just seemed to kick that up to the front of her mind and it spilled out all over again. In a way, she felt that she couldn't really be blamed for it—there were still a lot of unresolved feelings and issues she had toward the gang as a whole, not to highlight the person specific ones. Arthur had shown up and dragged her back to camp, all smug confidence, but she figured she should have seen this coming once Dutch decided to go a more civil route in letting her earn back what she had taken.

She let out a sigh through her nose, the conversation and the pain she was feeling didn't help in keeping her temper under check. Louise lifted a hand to rub against the side of her face, noting of her racing heart and the slight tremor to her fingers.

It was going to be a long day or two ahead.

 


	5. Fireside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack in updates to this. I hit a pretty big block with this for some reason and then life kept me away. However, here's a new chapter. There's a lot of talking, but the next one should push through into the plot a little more. 
> 
> As always, this is unbeta'd and proofread by myself, so I apologize for any mistakes. Feedback is always welcomed!

It really was beautiful country out this way, perhaps that's why she had felt drawn to settle out in the Grizzlies. As settled as she could get, at least.

There had been a lot of paranoia, questioning, anger, and rushing to find a place where she could lay low and figure what to do after the mess that separated her. Back then, the idea of returning in any capacity had been completely stomped out at that point—it had spurred a long battle with resentment, guilt, and abandonment. It took her a while to settle her mind enough to not absolutely _hate_ the situation she had found herself in. She found out that she rather enjoyed the green, the rain storms, the animals. The cooler temperatures had been a struggle to adapt to from out west, but she had made due. At least, for as long as she could. The small house she had bought was tiny and secluded, but wasn't exactly cheap either. Over the years, food and upkeep eventually started to drain what money she had left over. Louise was reminded of what Hosea had told her back when she had first been hauled back to camp—how she had a chance to _get out._ She _had_ that chance. Money had run dry, but she could have found work that _wasn't_ robbing people, but...well, she struggled to keep that part of her at bay. In a way, it was _all_ she believed she knew how to do properly.

Still, at the end of the day, she ended up getting a bounty that she couldn't pay and it cost her that privacy and security.

A few times throughout the ride up to where this bear supposedly was, she thought that maybe she was in over her head. In regards to both her injury and her decision to go along with this whole thing all together. This type of wilderness was home to her, now, but she had never figured that she would be exploring it with _Arthur and Hosea_ again—granted, it was much more hostile than she wished it was. The argument that she had with Arthur a while ago still simmered as the afternoon passed, the trees offering relief from the heat, but the position on the top of her horse didn't do much of anything for the state of her leg. Granted, it was much better than walking, but she knew she really should have been resting it. Though, she had to wonder if the camp would even let her. There _had_ to be some rationality in there, or she would have to make it clear that _she_ saw what was and wasn't rational in this situation, but she doubted they wouldn't give her a hard time about it once she got back.

Hell, going out hunting might not help with that in the long run, either.

Hosea and Arthur chatted back in forth when they felt like it, Louise falling back into a somewhat begrudging silence as she looked around the woods around them. Well, it certainly was deep enough to see some bears out this way—though, this monster of a bear she'd heard described was something she'd have to see to believe. Still, she kept her horse at a steady pace, trying to shove down the throbbing and aching in her leg, but it was getting a little too much. Though, fortunately enough, Hosea had found a spot that he thought would work for the night, Louise pulling back on the reins of her horse once she came trotting in behind the two of them. As her horse stopped, busying himself with the grass below him, she leaned forward to fold her arms against the back of his neck and rested her forehead against the back of her arms. She heard Hosea mention hunting a rabbit for the night, something she found herself mentally agreeing with as the emptiness in her stomach was something that she had been choosing to actively ignore.

Not without much luck, but she made it this far at least.

“You've been quiet as death,” Hosea remarked once Arthur had headed out to hunt the rabbit, Louise lifting her head as the older man turned his attention to her, “Haven't said a thing since Valentine.”

“If it feels like anythin' I say will spur an argument, I _won't_ say anythin',” she remarked, catching the look he tossed her way, “I _can_ do that, believe it or not. Thought that's what you wanted, anyhow. Plus...I live out here, figured I'd take in the sights again since I don't think I'll be seein' it for a while anyway.”

“You live out here?” he asked, “Arthur _had_ said he found that bounty hunter out this way. You really did travel far.”

It took some restraint to keep the bite out of her voice, Louise letting out a small breath before shrugging lightly. “Wanted to keep movin', I guess—considerin' all that happened. My house is still a ways out, but I know this country a bit. Came to like it. Until that was ripped from me, of course.”

Hosea let out a low hum in understanding, glancing down the way Arthur had disappeared down. Hunting rabbit was pretty simple, he wouldn't be gone long—which was... _great._ He hadn't tried to pull her into a conversation since the one about John, though it had appeared that he had been intending to talk like she wasn't riding behind him. Still, there was that tension and she had always been stubborn. A part of her didn't want to move on her stance that she had been in the right and done all she could do in a tight situation, but even then her understanding of what happened had holes in it. Having those filled in left her in a strange situation—not yet really wanting to _forgive_ , but she knew that she didn't have the full story. She never did, but she had convinced herself for years that they had just abandoned her. Hearing that they had gone back, it was frustrating because it proved that anger about the lack of action on their part was _unjustified_ —still, it didn't change anything in the end.

She had to earn the trust back of people she didn't particularly _want_ to trust all that much in the moment. Hosea was probably the only person she could speak somewhat plainly to without losing her temper—he was still uncertain, she could tell, but at the same time so was she. _Three hundred dollars._ Tree hundred and she could—well, she _hoped_ that she could leave after that, but that was another thing she couldn't trust about the situation.

At this point in time, if she played her cards wrong, she might not get out of this whole thing alive. Much as she didn't realize it at the time, intervention had kept her from getting a bullet—both times from Hosea. So, it really spoke to how impulsive her emotions were about this whole thing. It had been years—this had sat unresolved for _years._ It was hard to just let things _go_ , even with her understanding of what happened changing somewhat. Maybe she wasn't completely _blameless_ , but at the same time she had been pressed. Doing what Dutch wanted and keeping herself alive became her only two options, and she'd rightly picked herself. She wouldn't regret that. She still found herself mourning the broken trust and relationships in light of it, but she was still alive.

The question of her taking the chance to mend things was an ever pressing one, and a question that she was still reluctant to answer. She just wasn't sure if she _wanted_ to, if things were even able to go that far.

“You look like you need to sit.”

Hosea's voice broke through her thoughts, Louise blinking hard for a moment before letting out a soft chuckle.

“I've needed to since we left camp,” she muttered, deciding that she'd try to settle down somewhere.

Really, she wasn't sure she wanted to get off the horse and put her weight completely on her leg at this point, but she knew sitting like she was for any longer might make it worse. She climbed down off her horse slowly as Arthur appeared up over the path he had wandered down, rabbit slung over his shoulder. Louise didn't cast him much of a look as she reached up to remove the bedroll, making her way toward a rock as Arthur and Hosea had set up a small campfire for the night. Late evening had settled in as they were riding in, and now it was bleeding away into night as a warm glow from the fire filled the space.

She wasn't sure if it was the exhaustion that seemed push time by at such a quick pace, but being able to extend her leg and get her weight off it seemed to help somewhat with the pain. She'd been shot before, it wasn't a _new_ pain, but it was certainly something she was having a hard time brushing off. Maybe she should have packed some extra bandages, though it seemed like the only thing her current bandage was carrying was dirt. Though, she doubted they might be willing to hand over the supplies to her in the first place, and she didn't exactly have much to begin with. The bounty hunter that found her in her home and had been expecting her to hang or be locked up—he had no concern with letting her _collect her things_ , then Arthur came along with even less concern, so she really was stranded with just the clothes on her back and her anger to keep her pushing forward. It was overwhelming, like being tossed into an ocean with hopes of not drowning.

Certainly felt like she was at points.

Eventually the fire was lit, Arthur set about cooking the rabbit as some minimal conversation passed. It seemed like Hosea had said all he wanted on the way out, and Louise kept up her silence as her mind numbed slightly with the want for sleep. Though, she did tiredly accept some of the rabbit as Hosea had settled into sleep on his bedroll across from the fire. Louise, partly accepting her body's pleas for sleep and not want to sit up in silence with Arthur, had set about getting her bedroll down before settling down onto it. Arthur continued to cook and brew a couple things over the fire as some more time passed, Louise still propped up slightly against a rock as she watched the fire. It would have been peaceful, had she not been in pain and it didn't feel like Arthur was waiting to say something.

So, once Hosea had become just another mass reflected in the firelight, she wasn't too surprised to hear Arthur speak up.

“Had it been up to me, I would've turned you in for the bounty.”

Louise rubbed a hand over her eyes as she let out a small sigh through her nose—a part of her wanted to bristle at the words. At the sound of his _voice_ at this point, especially that very night. However, she found herself letting out a small chuckle as she moved her hand down across her face.

“I figured,” she muttered, “Made _that_ pretty clear, no need tellin' me. Can't say I know you much no more, Arthur Morgan, but I do know you let Dutch do the thinkin' for you, so here we are.”

“What a _great good_ it did for you, thinkin' for yourself.”  
  
“It _did_ do me good,” she snapped, shifting forward slightly as she rested a hand against the ground, pointing a finger toward him with her free hand, “That is, until you couldn't leave well enough alone—and you can't fight back against that. That bounty hunter may've gotten there before you, but you had my poster and were ridin' up there anyway.”

“Should be Dutch's call on what to do with former gang members,” Arthur returned, Louise letting out a soft huff as she tilted her head back, letting her hand land back in her lap.

“Further proves my point,” she muttered, “I'm injured, weaponless, out in the middle of nowhere. Could kill me tonight and leave me out here, tell Hosea I run off. You won't do it. Can't speak for your _morality_ , but I know you won't go against what Dutch's already decided.”

“Keep pushin', you might find somethin' _worth sayin'._ ”

Despite his words, there was a bit of an edge to his voice—Louise couldn't quite see him too well in the firelight, but she could feel his gaze on her. She let out a sigh through her nose, something close to a chuckle, but the small grin on her face strained to remain genuine. She exhaled heavily through her nose, feeling her heart racing somewhat with the surfacing anger.

“I got _plenty_ worth sayin', it's only a question of if it's _you_ I should be tellin' it to. So far, I don't think you want to listen.”

“No, I ain't the one you need to be tellin' it to,” he replied, leaning back away from the fire to settle down onto his own bedroll, “I already know what's been decided. You ran before, you'll do it again.”

“You say that like I had a damn _choice_ the first time. Hell, like I have a choice _this_ time,” she returned, struggling to keep her voice down, “I don't know how many times I have to tell this damn story, but you were there. You knew what I was up against, and yet you'll still sit on that side? Though, if you're so set on that, you can believe I took off because I got some money and what I wanted out of the gang.”

“What the hell was we _supposed_ to believe?”

“Maybe that there's something more to it outside of what _Dutch's anger_ told him?”

“You act like I were supposed to know your side all along,” he returned, “ _If_ there's more to it, I weren't there to see it.”

“ _There is_ ,” she insisted, “I had _nothin'_ else, you think I _wanted_ to leave? Struggled for a long time after I had realized that I couldn't keep waitin'. I had to use what I had to get anywhere. It was the gang's money, sure, but I didn't just take it because I knew I could. My life or that money.”

It looked like he might have said something back, Louise staring at him from across the fire as he pressed his mouth into a thin line before shaking his head, waving a hand as he settled himself down more. Though, he still remained sitting up, glancing from her toward the sleeping form of Hosea, head tucked into his arms as he seemingly remained oblivious to the conversation going on around him.

“You're not gonna stay...” Arthur said, his tone level, though there was something there behind the _bite_ , “I see you hidin' behind Hosea, you're not stayin' once this is done.”

“Maybe not,” she returned, “I'm not being given much reason to. However, I didn't _ask_ him to step in front of me, he did that himself. More than anybody's done for me at this point, seein' as Dutch seemed ready to kill me and you said you'd rather see me on a _hangman's noose._ So, yeah, I trust him more than anybody in that camp right now.”

“Nobody _trusts_ you, don't make no mistake on that.”

“I know,” she muttered, “Damn it, _I know._ Forgive me for grabbing what _little_ hope I got in this situation.”

It was the simple truth—she knew she was standing behind Hosea in most cases where it came to convincing her to stay, but she also knew that he had made it clear that it was now her turn to prove that she could be trusted with paying them back at the very least. Arthur was right, she wasn't staying. The idea of staying long term with the gang wasn't even on her mind in the moment, but it still...well, there was still a part of her that felt _hurt._ There always would be. Arthur had dragged her into this, and it was on her if she would be able to walk back out again, but she knew if things had been different...if she had just done what Dutch had told her the previous day. Well, she would have either died as part of their gang or would still be a part of it, though the former was much more likely.

“Gettin' punished for pickin' life in a life or death situation...” she whispered to herself at the silence that followed, laying herself down as she sighed softly into the night air.

She watched the embers from the fire dance up into the sky, blinking tiredly. If she had been any less tired, any less exhausted, she wasn't sure how she would have taken that whole conversation. A screaming match, breaking down into tears, she wasn't sure, but she knew that she was done with it for now. With a deep exhale through her nose, she let her eyes shut—a part of her not sure if that was wise, but...well, she was confident in what she had said before. Dutch had made his decision, she could trust in _that_ , even if she couldn't trust the man himself. Still, this...well, she hated this. She _hated_ it.

Still, as bitter as she was, sleep pulled her in gently into it's grasp as the memory of Arthur watching her from across the fire faded into the back of her mind.

 

* * *

 

 

“Here.”

Morning came with a nudge to her side, Louise jostling awake somewhat. Immediately, she squeezed her eyes shut against the brightness, though Hosea standing above her caused her to open them again as he bent down slightly to hand her a cup.

“Won't taste great, but it might help with the pain,” he explained, Louise sitting herself with a grunt, trying not to show the pain on her face as she reached out to take the cup from her.

She gave a soft groggy nod in thanks, glancing around herself somewhat. Most of the camp had been packed up, Hosea and Arthur packed up as she spotted the latter feeding his horse across from the campsite. Whatever was in the cup, it tasted like _dirt._ Still, she knew she would take anything at this point—they still hadn't caught that bear and she had a long ride back to camp once ( _if_ ) they did. Still, Hosea seemed confident about it, moving around with a bit of a spark to his step as he got himself ready to continue the ride out. With a small sigh, Louise shifted on the ground so she could roll the bedroll back up before struggling to a stand. Whatever she drank, it wasn't fast acting either. With a notable limp, she made her way toward her horse. She caught Arthur's glance out of the corner of his eye, but the two didn't share any words as she stowed the bedroll and pulled herself up onto her horse.

Still no name, yet. Poor thing. She always took a couple days to decide, but at least he seemed mild tempered enough to keep up with her more steering where her legs were concerned.

“You said you knew this part of the country well, you think we'll find this bear out here?” Hosea asked as he approached Silver Dollar, glancing up toward her. Louise blinked, trying to force her brain to step back from sleep, despite not having much time to get used to being awake again.

“I...think you'll have no problem findin' _a_ bear. Don't know about this _beast_ you're talkin' 'bout.”

“Arthur here thinks the same thing,” Hosea commented as he pulled himself back up onto his horse, “Always thought you was the more _optimistic_ of you two.”

“Didn't say we _wouldn't_ find it...” she muttered, squeezing her legs around the horse as they started to move on from the campsite—and hopefully that late night conversation, too, but she was _pessimistic_ about that.

Really, she found herself hoping that they'd find the bear soon or they would get their fill of searching for it and head back to camp. She wasn't looking forward to dealing with what was waiting back there, but between the pain in her leg and that anger sitting in her chest, she wanted nothing more than to throw herself into something that wasn't _this._

 _Maybe we will find the thing_ , she thought, a small grin crossing her face, _then it'll eat me and spare me from what's to come._

 


End file.
